


Stuffed

by viklikesfic (v_angelique)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bondage, Choking, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Gangbang, Greedy Sub, Humiliation, M/M, Rope Bondage, Rough Sex, Slurs, Spitroasting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:00:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27462337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/v_angelique/pseuds/viklikesfic
Summary: Sherlock gets tied up, spitroasted by a group of John's army mates, and humiliated. Basically, that's it. That's the story. PWP.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/Original Male Character(s), Sherlock Holmes/Sebastian Moran, Sherlock Holmes/Sebastian Moran/John Watson
Comments: 14
Kudos: 92





	Stuffed

**Author's Note:**

> Poking my head back into Sherlock fandom for the obstinate reason that I really want recent fandoms to crowd out at least everything old except for Lotrips on my dashboard.
> 
> CWs: Really rough sex, choking, almost passing out (reader can decide whether it happens), humiliation, gang bang, slurs.

John has a surprising number of army buddies who are keen on this sort of thing, Sherlock thinks as they tie him up with hemp rope, his knees bent and his calves stacked so his legs form a neat little triangle, anchored to a chest harness. It’s kind, he thinks, that they’re going to let him relax into the bondage and be comfortable as he gets fucked.

(Comfortable, but also skewered by the rope, harsh fibers digging into his skin). 

“Yeah,” one of the men who’s not actually doing the tying groans. “Truss him up tight. I want to stuff this bitch like a holiday turkey.”

The others laugh, tie off the last of the rope and drag Sherlock around sideways on the bed, so that his head falls back over the side of the mattress. One man holds his skull in place, lets his dick bob against Sherlock’s face, while another grips his thighs hard and pierces his ass in one slow thrust. John prepared him, before the rest of them came upstairs, so it’s an easy slide. 

They’re in John’s bed, as it gives Sherlock a bit of distance from his personal space, and also there’s an extra floor between them and Mrs. Hudson. That also means it’s a tighter fit, and the room’s warm from the assembled bodies. 

“Damn, Watson,” another of the men remarks. “You weren’t kidding when you said your boy needs to get stuffed.”

“He loves it,” John agrees, and Sherlock can hear the pride in his tone even as much of his attention is taken up by the dick down his throat and the other one up his bum. “Begs real pretty for cock.”

“Fuck. He’s too skinny,” says the man in his rear. “He must not eat enough. Too busy being a slut,” he teases, massaging Sherlock’s belly. 

Another voice laughs. “Honestly, sweetheart... I’m with Collins. Kinda doubted your man was quite serious. Are you really so regularly busy getting stuffed with cock that you forget about  _ food _ ?”

“Yeah,” the one in his throat groans. Of course, Sherlock can’t independently respond. “Need to be stuffed full of cock all the time, don’t you, boy?” He forces Sherlock to nod with his hands tight on Sherlock’s skull, pulling out and slapping his cock against Sherlock’s face again. Sherlock’s skin feels tight with the rush of blood to his head, and he can’t deny the pleasure of feeling a thick cock beating against his face, leaving thin trails of liquid.

"Maybe if we stuff him full enough, he'll look like he has some meat on his bones."

"You like that, boy? You want to be full up with our come?" That’s John, and Sherlock gasps in agreement, a quick “yessir” before his throat is stuffed again. Sherlock wonders whether he’s beating off yet. John’s got amazing stamina. 

“Yeah,” one of his mates agrees. This one sounds older, a senior officer, maybe. That makes Sherlock shiver harder than he’d like to admit. “Skinny boys choking on fat cock are such a goddamned turn-on. Love how your boy struggles, Captain. Trying to take all the dick he wants into his body.” As he says that Sherlock chokes and gurgles, jolted with a rough thrust from the other end. His dick is so hard it must be turning purple. He loves being used roughly like this, and John knows it.  _ Facilitated _ it. Sherlock loves this man so much. He wishes they didn’t need condoms, that he could really get stuffed and filled from both ends, but the spitroast itself is enough to fuel his fantasies for months.

“Fuck,” the one down his throat moans when Sherlock’s throat convulses. “I’m gonna come.” Sherlock sucks as best he can, though really he’s just a hollow tunnel like this, mouth and throat one continuous tube to fuck. His big brain’s good for no more than weight here, keeping his mouth at the proper angle. That’s a tremendous turn-on, as is the warm semen flooding his tongue as the man pulls back. 

“God, you slut,” the other man spits. “Feel his arse clenching up around my dick.”

“Yeah,” John agrees mildly. “He likes taking come. Almost at a spiritual level.” Sherlock wants to agree, but as the dick comes out of his mouth, another is pushed in next to it, sideways. His lips stretch as wide as they can, taking two cockheads for just a moment, before the new one slips in. This one’s shorter, but fatter. It barely plugs his airway, but when the man pauses at the top of his thrust, his throat is completely sealed off. He gags a little around it, knowing that’ll feel good for the dick’s owner. Perhaps it’s the choking sounds that set off the man in his arse, who shouts as he fills the condom. Someone else slips into his arse immediately after that, and Sherlock moans as he suckles at the head of the Coke-can dick. The rhythmic rocking is almost soothing, and he feels a little woozy as they fuck him. The rope is cutting into his skin, lighting up his nerves with pain. The dick in his mouth starts to taste better. Coming, he realizes, fuck-stupid, slurping up everything he can and swallowing it down. The man in his arse fucks hard, jostling Sherlock’s whole body, nailing his prostate. 

The Coke-can dick slips out of his mouth, and then it’s  _ John _ and Sherlock sucks him in so sweet, his tongue fluttering weakly. John’s so big, both ways, and he knows exactly how to use it. Sherlock starts to drift, hazy, as the other man uses his arse so brutally. John doesn’t stop him. John knows his limits, and that means Sherlock’s doing okay. He relies on John to know, because he would never safeword out himself. John would never let him play without John present. But John likes to watch. He knows John’s watching intently as his army mate pounds Sherlock’s ass. And then the man’s pulling out, careful on the exit at least. John chuckles, slowly forcing his dick down Sherlock’s throat and holding it there. “Go on, Moran. He’s loosened up. Have at him.”

_ Moran _ , Sherlock thinks, starting to feel faint from being fucked so comprehensively, having his airway blocked so many times and at shorter intervals. ... _ where do I know that name from? _

But then there’s a thick cock  _ invading _ his ass, thrusting so roughly he sees stars and feels his insides rearranged. He tries to moan and he’s blocked by John’s dick. Someone else’s erection slaps his cheek. They give him absolutely no quarter, demolishing his body between them. The man at his arse laughs and calls him a slag, tells Sherlock to take his dick with an Irish accent. Something tries to stutter to life in his brain, but it can’t quite make the connection, too little oxygen feeding the cells.

His world starts to go grey.

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
